


What've you been up to?

by Anonymous



Series: Anonymoose but I had to orphan my old series so that my friends didn't find it [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bird/Human Hybrids, Butt Plugs, Cock Warming, Deepthroating, Dry Humping, Enthusiastic Consent, Frottage, Furry, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Rutting, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shibari, Smut, Subspace, Trans Male Character, a little gross at one point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Phil just wants some alone time with his toys and some rope. Techno comes home early.(Techno is a Piglin, Phil is a trans man. Don't like? Don't read.)
Relationships: Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Anonymoose but I had to orphan my old series so that my friends didn't find it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177043
Comments: 8
Kudos: 189
Collections: Anonymous





	What've you been up to?

Phil knew that he shouldn't be doing this. 

He knew he shouldn't be leaving the house when Techno was out chopping wood too, just in case of an emergency or whatever, and he knew that he shouldn't be so open about these activities considering everything that was happening in their server, but sometimes he needed to blow off steam. Alone. Somewhere that even Techno wouldn't be able to find him.

That last part was a bit of a lie – Techno could have probably found him if he cared enough to look. The idea of him walking in wasn't… unappealing, but it would mean more explaining than he had the patience for. 

Techno wouldn't mind him getting off, but he would probably comment or otherwise be upset that he’d wanted to keep this from him, not intentionally, but he was a bit… obvious, with how his ears pressed back and how his mouth mouthed the words ‘I’m not upset’. It just meant more explaining than he wanted. 

So Phil grabbed the rope, the small wooden box from beneath his bed and made his way outside. Behind their home was a small, covered area, invisible from the kitchen window but still close enough that Phil would be able to hear Techno coming before the piglin could see him. The area was originally intended for if Phil ever decided to get his own horse, and so the floor was covered in soft hay and was sheltered from the wind and snow, but it was still out in the open enough for him to hear someone coming. It was perfect for something like this.

So Phil rested the rope on a hook and put the wooden box in the hay, before he shed his coat and laid it out over the hay too. His shirt shortly followed, with the man shivering and flexing his wings with the cold, and he felt his nipples harden as they became exposed to the frigid, still air. Next to go were his boots, but his socks stayed on, and then his trousers and underwear too. He felt his tail feathers flex out and widen now that their base had been freed of their fabric confines, and Phil ran a single hand through the hairs and small yellow feathers growing in the ‘V’ between his legs. He pulled at them, enjoying the sensation of his skin falling back into place a moment later, and he poised himself atop his coat in the hay, tossing his head about to get comfortable.

He was in much the same position as he was when he went through his unexpected heat with Techno, with his thighs open (but no longer bruised – he’d have to see if Techno was interested in a repeat performance some time) and his wings spread out as far as they would go in the small stable. The cold air rushed between his legs and licked at his folds, and he pushed his head back again as he pushed two fingers between his legs, running the pads of his fingers over his clit and further down into his cunt. 

He couldn't help the fact that he just got so wet, on or off the medication that helped prevent the all-encumbering heats which Omegas were known to have. The liquid came from inside him and slipped down his folds again, over his hole and taint, before it ran down over his asshole too. Phil, with his free hand, grabbed at the wooden box and pulled it open. As he did so, his fingers left his cunt and ran lower. 

A plug, maybe only four inches long but stocky and thick at the base, came from the box in his hand. It was a violent red, with a small pink jewel in the base like a reminder of everything he had wanted before but never had a chance to receive. He’d felt filthy, being in the nearby town and going into the sex store, and he felt a re-ignited thrill at the fact that he’d gotten away with it. The plug had been a middle-sized one on the shelf, it’s rich red colour contrasting with the baby blue one a size smaller, and the vibrant green which was larger, and when he had first seen it he had stopped in his tracks, gazing up at the toy in the glass cabinet with a fire igniting in his crotch. He’d rubbed his thighs together awkwardly, before going to retrieve the item he had actually wanted (rope and a bottle of lubricant) and returning to the front of the store as he paid, inquiring about the toy in the cabinet. He had intentionally worn a different hat and coat should he have seen anyone he recognised going in and out. It had been a good thing, too – he’d seen Niki come inside as he was paying for it, although she had paid him no mind.

Phil ran his fingers over his hole, at the puckered entrance which grew cold as his slick dried in the air, and he shivered when he reached with one hand to play with his nipple. They’d always been sensitive, and during the period where he’d had to take diluted change potions for a year or so, they’d been hot to the touch and unable to be touched at all by hands or loose fabric or else he would have embarrassed himself in public. It was fortunate he’d lived alone back then. There was still some softness in his chest, nothing major, but enough for him to have felt insecure about it for a time, but ultimately loose, heavy clothing and a sharp sword deferred anyone from asking. He didn't make it obvious.

The smell of his cunt was in the air now, coming from his wings and his hair as the heat between his thighs started to get stronger. He shoved fingers into him, two at once and he groaned at the feeling of the stretch. Phil realised he should have used lube, or at the very least more of his own slick, but he set about preparing himself anyway, the burn be damned. Plucking the plug from the hay, he twisted it around in his free hand and brought it down to his dripping cunt, letting its pointed end rub through his fold and over his clit again. He twisted his fingers inside his ass as he pushed the plug into his other hole, groaning as it protested against the immediate stretch. He panted, kicked his leg out into the hay, and pushed it in further as he pried his fingers apart. 

It was a sickening, weighted moment, but then the plug slipped through and into his hole, and he groaned at the feeling of it laying there and pulling him down. As he twisted his fingers in his ass upwards, he rubbed at the toy through his walls and panted heavily, before he withdrew his dirty hand and wiped it on the floor. His clean hand, the one which had shoved the toy into him, trailed between his legs again and pulled the toy out again, it feeling obscene as he pushed it lower, over his taint again and against his puckered opening. Phil breathed through his nose and out of his mouth, before he forced himself to relax and pushed the toy into his entrance, feeling it stretch obscenely like an inflating balloon. Phil kicked his legs about again, the fine hairs on his legs mingling with the hay, but even with the toy now inside him he didn't stay to enjoy it for long. Instead he waited a moment for his fuzzy head to clear, before he stood on shaky legs and reached for the rope. 

He’d done this before, too, and he ignored the sounds of the outside world as he ran the red rope gently through his hands. _This_ was the part he didn't want Techno to know about. This was what he knew he shouldn't be doing, since when they were constantly on the brink of another war, it became too time consuming, too risky, but with the cold heightening his nerves and with the air of finality (he didn't know when he’d have a chance like this again) about him, he twisted the rope so there was a loop in the middle, before smoothing it out and resting it around his neck, so that the threads were side by side. He looped it beneath his arms and twisted it around his stomach, crossing the rope around himself and knotting it in the middle of his chest, before a few moments later, it was tied in a string of diamonds down his sternum. He then took the remaining rope and let it drape down his front, from beneath his chest and down to his legs. It was long enough that it brushed the floor, but he picked up the smooth rope and pulled it between his legs, tight, before tucking it through the rope at his back. He secured it with another knot, adjusted it, and let his arms drape by his side. 

He shifted his thighs together. The rope pushed the butt-plug further inside him and his folds rubbed against the rough-soft fibres. He curved his spine and the wrapping shifted against his skin, rubbing some areas raw and loosening at others. Shoulders, the line of his spine, his ribs and cunt ached with a deep, sinful kind of hurt. His mouth watered as he went to sit down on the hay again. There was nothing more that he wanted than to have his hands bound and have someone take him from behind, not necessarily his ass so much as his dripping cunt, and he gripped his coat as he shifted his ass in the air, feeling the cold bite at his toes and his nose, his nipples completely hard and feeling the chill on his folds, too. He bit his lip and wiggled his hips a little more, the rope running across his skin, digging in, relaxing elsewhere. 

He panted into the frigid air, seeing it roll out before him like a phantom hand coming to touch him, but he squeezed his eyes tighter and just pushed his thighs together to get some real stimulation instead. 

With a moan, Phil trailed a hand down his chest, brushing over his nipple, his other, and lower down his stomach.

But then there was a slam, a door nearby, and he froze. 

Phil raised his head as if looking at the wood of the stable would make his hearing keener, but he didn't hear anything else, other than the sounds of rabbits in the snow and the bees in their keep. Other noises came shortly thereafter from the house, shuffling around, and then a grunt as a heavy bag hit their table. Techno, then, and not some unknown.

But that meant Phil would be missing, and that he hadn't left a note. Why was he back so early? It was only mid-day, only just getting warm enough for him to not feel out of place in the stable, but Techno was here, _now._

Phil stood up, fluttered the hay out of his wings, tail feathers and hair, and hurried to put his clothes back on. He’d forgotten the scissors, or a knife or anything else – this wasn't something he did often, but he was comfortable enough to feel like he didn't need them – and he felt like a fool for it now. But his trousers went over the ropes, then his shirt and his coat, and his wings slipped through them with some stiffness as they brushed against the rope. He could fly with the ropes (when they were still working that was), but it was generally a bad idea. Distractions when flying tended to be a bad idea, regardless of whether they were sexual in nature or not. 

But Phil pulled his boots on again, shoved his hat on his head and grabbed the discarded box, taking care to pull out the few pieces of hay which had fallen into it, before he stomped out of the stable, ignoring the lingering heat in his loins, and made his way back to their home. He hid the box, latched closed, beneath his coat. 

“Techno?” Phil yelled as he opened the front door, but the immediate response was silence. 

“Mate?” 

The air was still, with Techno’s cloak thrown over the dining chair and his axe laying on the floor next to where he’d usually lean it. There was no more firewood, no fuel for their fire that night, even though that was his reasoning for going out that day. He could hear movement coming from upstairs, like Techno was trying not to move but failed, and Phil could recognise that creak. It was the one where Techno’s bed unfortunately snapped a floorboard, and as he adjusted in his bed, it squeaked. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Phil asked, shifting his thighs without thinking, and he had to bite back a gasp as the ropes ran through his crotch again. 

Techno mustn't have heard him, mustn't have heard the caught off guard end to his sentence. 

“Phil,” he said, “It’s awkward. I’m sorry.”

“I don't mind if its awkward,” Phil implored him, “You’ve helped me with awkward stuff in the past. I don't mind.”

It did feel a bit like the horrible ‘eye for an eye’ mentality which some people had, even if Phil was assuming it was just them helping one another through two totally separate events, and so he could only hope that Techno’s issue wasn't one of violence or revenge. Which he was known for. Phil would hesitate to fly in the past when tied up, but fighting was a whole other version of sexual-teasing. It was hard enough to concentrate with Techno getting covered in blood, let alone when he was being stimulated at the same time. 

He could hear Techno breathe in and out deeply, a sigh which went through his whole chest, and Phil put two hands on the ladder leading upwards. He could see Techno’s shoes near to the ladder, as if he had undressed in a hurry or was uncomfortable in some way. Witches, wither skeletons, potions or even botanicals could cause uncomfortable reactions to do with the body, be it poison, erosion or some other such effect. Even a warming potion could cause shedding of clothes, or cooling ones gave people the impression of hypothermia. Itching potions were a thing, too, less used for the stinging nettles needed to make them, but the question remained – what was wrong?

“Techno, what’s wrong?”

He felt pushy, a little like he was stepping over boundaries, but the broken silence a moment later was worth it.

“...I’m hard.”

Phil snorted without thinking about it, and he climbed the ladder now without thinking, but pausing at first as the rope tightened painfully between his legs, sending another flash of wet heat through him, but he pressed on until he poked his head over the top. The heady campfire smell that the Alpha had in droves stank out the attic and made Phil’s eyes water with the intensity, his own cake-like smell being muffled by it, muted and overwhelmed. Techno was shirtless, his trousers undone but still up his hips, and he lay on the covers with an arm thrown over his eyes. One of his hooves scraped the floor, forgetting about the sharpness at the end of his limb, but strangely, underneath it all, Phil smelt something else. Artificial, a bit like bubble-gum. 

Despite the other smell, Phil felt his folds grow wetter around the ropes keeping him captive, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the sight of the bulge in Techno’s pants, and he remembered the wonderful evening they’d spent fucking one another’s guts out when Phil had his untimely heat. Techno might have been in a rut, he realised, or the very earliest incarnation of one. They might be taking the week off from any kind of hard work if that was the case. Working through a heat was one thing, working through a rut was another, but neither were pleasant. 

“Do you need help?” Phil asked gently. 

One of Techno’s dark eyes turned to him, poking out beneath where he still had an arm thrown over his face. Phil swallowed at the sight of Techno swallowing, his snout moving as he smelled the air. 

“Oh,” Techno said, voice a deep, rumbling wave, “I can smell you.”

Phil swallowed, more than aware of the ropes encircling his body now. He felt another smaller, no less welcome amount of slick slide out of him. He hated the thought, but it felt a little like slime. He shuddered as Techno kept watching him. 

“I can taste you, too,” Techno said, his long, piglin tongue coming to lick his lips, trailing from his snout and over one tooth before going to the other side to do the same. 

Techno pulled his hand away from his face and leaned up on his hands, his legs still spread out on the bed as if inviting Phil to come between them. Phil could feel his tail feathers and wings stretching out, flexing, as if they were anticipating a flight. 

“I don't know,” Phil’s voice came out breathy, teasing, “I’m not sure if you can consent, given you might be going into a rut and all that.

“Not a rut,” Techno went onto his elbows, leaning back and giving Phil an excellent view of his stomach, “Just got hard and can't deal with the knot.”

Phil’s eyebrows rose, and he pulled himself through the hatch to the attic with his arms, so that some of his chest was above the threshold. 

“Surely you know by now that you can't deal with it by yourself,” he said.

“I know.”

“So how come you still managed – ?”

“Doesn't matter, look, Phil, I can _smell you_. Say the word and I’ll take you right here, right now, and honestly we’ll probably break the bed.”

Phil ran one hand down his side, feeling the ridges of the rope beneath his shirt, feeling the secret he was intentionally trying to keep from Techno, feeling the rope between his legs dig at either side of his clit and rub it in either direction, feeling the plug in his ass push in deeper as the ropes tightened and flexed. He watched, with a mouth full of saliva, as Techno’s hard cock flexed in his pants again, and he scrambled up when Techno looked at him and groaned. 

He came over, but before Techno could reach for him by the hips and drag him closer, Phil straddled Techno’s knees. The piglin looked confused, going so far as to open his mouth to ask what the older man was doing, but Phil put his hand on Techno’s clothed cock, and the reaction was immediate. He bucked up, his mouth making a keening sound as his hands slammed back onto the bed, and Phil wasted no time in pulling the piglin’s trousers down, taking a look at the ruby-red tip, at the pink shaft and the jewel-like bead of precum on the tip, and he admired it, his mouth open and almost dripping, the half-swelled knot at the base of the shaft. Phil pulled the trousers down further, revealing one of the scars on Techno’s leg and his heavy, aching balls along with them, but before Techno could comment, Phil leaned down.

The piglin groaned like one of his zombified counterparts, like he was getting into a fight rather than witnessing Phil suck him off. 

Phil tongued at the tip, tasting the very slight salty tang of the precum at Techno’s head, before he put his excess saliva to good use and used it to slick up the shaft, pushing his mouth down further. He could comfortably take him to the knot, not enough to go over it completely, but as Phil adjusted the very slight discomfort of taking him that far, his eyes trailed over the remainder with hunger and intent in his gaze. Techno was watching him, his hooves gripping the bed sheets of his bed tightly like he was expecting Phil to either get him off instantly or bite him, but he did neither. He pulled his head back, tongued the tip again, and returned to work. Techno let his head fall back with a groan, a more human-sounding one, as Phil put his hand on his balls and rolled them around, sucking liberally at the head of Techno’s cock and pushing himself slightly closer to the knot with each stroke downwards. 

He pushed a hand between his own legs, the limbs shifting side to side and rubbing his folds, at the rope between them, at the sharp, almost burn of it. He moaned deeply around Techno’s cock and the other gasped, ignorant to Phil’s dirty little secret. As if hearing his thoughts, Techno pushed a pillow off the bed and onto the floor, and Phil grabbed it without pulling off, gagging slightly as he went too far, before he shoved it between his legs and rutted into it. The ropes caught on each and every fold of his cunt, becoming sloppy, like a well-used and well-oiled machine. The overwhelming campfire smell was still in the air, and Phil’s wings, outstretched across the room, would no doubt soak it up like a sponge. Techno would probably want to bite him, mark him since it had become the piglin’s favourite form of affection since Phil had introduced him to it, but as it was Techno just put a hoof into Phil’s hair and let the older man take the reins.

Techno in reins. Now there was a thought. Phil rutted against the pillow and made the sound of a dying man, before he paused as far down on Techno’s cock as he could and suckled. He felt like an idiot, like he was half-lidded and suckling like a new born calf, but the idea wasn't unappealing. For all of Techno’s features – his ears, his snout, his hooves and his tail – Phil kind of wanted to be pet between his ears. The hoof in his hair was a good halfway point, but Techno still reeked of inexperience, regardless of what he may have claimed. 

The hand he had on Techno’s balls, once feeling and thumbing them, went lower slightly but Techno tensed. Phil watched his reaction, seeing the uncertainty, the excused being formed before they spilt over, and wordlessly he pulled his hand back. Techno might not have been into that then, or at least not yet. That was the sort of thing they’d need to discuss before taking further, so he returned his hand to the piglin’s heavy balls and rolled them around more, letting his hand grab a hold of one and tug it down slightly, causing a sharp thrust of his hips into Phil’s mouth.

“Ah, ah! Sorry!”

Phil’s eyes fluttered, and once again his mouth managed to take Techno’s knot into him, and the tip of it just barely touched the back of his throat, just barely tickled his gag reflex, and for a moment he held himself there. Techno was panting, his thighs shaking, and Phil continued to grind against the pillow. Even with the plug inside himself, Phil wished he had gotten to the point where he’d put something in his other hole, since it slicked up his trousers and his hand and the pillow, and yet still went unfilled. If he wasn't already halfway through his first blowjob of the century, Phil might have been tempted to say fuck it and take off his clothes anyway, rope-interest (he refused to call it a fetish) be damned. 

But he could wait. Techno couldn't.

“Phil,” he panted, then groaned as the sound of his name made Phil moan too, “Phil, I’m going to knot.”

The admission made Phil breathe out heavily through his nose, made him draw back to swallow what saliva was left in his mouth to stop himself drooling, before he pushed himself down Techno’s shaft and to the base of his penis, his nose buried in the fine, pink hairs there, where the smell of fire was intense and where his own loins throbbed at it. Techno was gasping, his hand left Phil’s hair as if the older man was unsure of his own decision, and wordlessly Phil watched as Techno slowly, gradually, rattled himself apart. 

The knot at the base of his Alpha’s dick started to swell, began to grow harder than before with blood and Phil hoped to god that the Piglin’s knot wasn't as big as it felt the last time it was inside him. He’d been distracted with his own pleasure then, and sure he was now, too, but Phil really didn't want to be pried off if his jaw couldn't stretch wide enough. Teeth were a dangerous thing, and even though Phil liked a little bit of the bite (which the rope was doing right now, he might add), he knew it wasn't for everyone. Techno’s cock brushed the back of his throat, growing very slightly longer as the knot expanded further, and Phil breathed intentionally, deliberately, so he didn't choke. It was tempting to do so anyway, for himself or Techno, he wasn't sure, but he kept the pillow between his legs and thrust his hips forward and back. It was easy to stay silent, even if he wanted to make noise, and Techno watched him with a kind of fascinated interest. 

“Fuck,” Techno breathed out, “Phil, fuck. Are you okay?”

Eyelashes fluttering, breath hitching, he looked up at Techno just as the knot started what it had wanted to do in his cunt. Cum dripped, slowly at first, from the head of Techno’s dick and directly down Phil’s throat, and he fought the urge to groan at the feeling. Noise at this point meant choking – actually… 

Phil swallowed, groaned, choked as Techno’s cock got stuck in the way, and it set off a chain reaction. He thrust his hips, took more of the cum down his throat and clenched his thighs, his hands in the pillow, and his airway. He breathed through his nose, but the choking had pushed some cum up his nose, and Phil’s eyes watered as he breathed through it, as it bubbled a little from his nose. Techno wasn't looking at him, and as he struggled to breathe, swallow, not-choke and hump the pillow wildly, he wished the piglin would. The rope burn was getting unbearable now, the plug stretching him out and as he wiggled, his hole grew loose and sloppy, and if not for the rope he wondered if it would have fallen out. He groaned again at the thought, at the urge to ask Techno to take him from behind instead, for him to smack Phil’s face lightly, to call him names and get him on his hands and knees. Phil’s thighs shuddered and he bucked when Techno’s bleary eyes turned back to him, uncomprehending to what he was seeing at first.

Phil blinked at him, his eyelashes wet, his face dripping with small, overwhelmed tears, his cunt hot and sloppy and so _so_ close to coming, and he breathed out through his nose again, the cum from before on his face. He clenched, waited for Techno to recognise everything, and when the piglin’s eyes went wide and his cock spurted out a stronger, thick glob of cum, Phil thrust once, twice, and came with a full-body shudder, with his mouth, jaw, aching, and with his thighs tightening like a Venus fly trap around the pillow. He moaned, choked, slurped what he could back into his mouth, and rested his nose in Techno’s pubes. 

He shuddered through each shockwave, an earthquake down his spine and through his nervous system, and he wanted nothing more than to know what to do with his hands. He kept them behind his back for now, his mouth buried on Techno’s cock and disappearing between his thighs, slobbering over it, and his hands flexed as he finally, finally came down from the orgasm he’d been working towards for at least an hour. He kept his hips as still as possible, his hands still behind his back, but he didn't bother trying to raise his head from Techno’s crotch. Even if his Alpha’s knot went down now, he wouldn't want to pull back, would want to do a good job and get him off again and again with his mouth, with his cunt or his ass. He wanted Techno to untie his hands (though they were not tied), wanted him to dig the cum out of his ass and his cunt with his beastly hooves (even though he didn't have any in there), and he wanted Techno to claim him over and over again. 

The unnatural, unwelcomed bubble-gum smell from earlier had faded, hidden with the campfire of Techno’s and the sweet, creamy scent of Phil, and his wings flexed slightly on his back as Techno’s knot let out another thicker stream of cum. 

He knelt on the bed, his tail feathered fanned out over the floor and Techno’s thick cock in his mouth, for half an hour or so. It might as well have been eternity. 

Eventually, Techno pulled Phil’s head off his cock. Phil wasn't paying attention, his mouth still open and dripping steadily down onto it, and he blinked with his tongue out at Techno. He didn't know when, but his hat was gone. Cum dripped down his chin, down onto his shirt and lower. Techno could definitely see the wet spot in his trousers, soaking the pillow too, but he wasn't sure if it was just regular slick or mind-blowing-orgasm squirt, too. Phil fought the urge to cough, feeling like as much as mess as he was, but Techno looked at him like a piece of fine art. 

“Fuck,” Techno said, whispered. 

Phil closed his mouth and managed to swallow. Techno’s hoof was still in his hair, holding his head up, and Phil half-wished that he’d put him back down again, back to business, back into the wet mess between Techno’s thighs. 

“Fuck,” The piglin said again, “Phil?”

He didn't say anything, but he whined.

“We should, I should – “ Techno swallowed, “I should clean you up.”

Phil didn't move, but his hands had slipped down to the bed when he didn't realise, holding the sheets either side of Techno’s thighs. Techno gently moved one of his hands, sliding out from Phil’s accidental hold and moving his head back to the bed. Techno grabbed a clean pillow and moved it beneath Phil’s head, resting him gently down, before he went down the ladder. His cock was still out, which made Phil giggle for some reason, before he pulled the sodden pillow out from between his legs and let it slip onto the floor with a wet sound. He giggled some more, looking off into the bedroom, at his own unstained bed on the far side, and at the wooden box which had fallen out of his coat earlier, unnoticed. Phil groaned at the realisation that he’d still have to clean the toy, but he still laughed slightly at how absurd it was. A red and pink toy, sodden with his own juices, and a criss-cross of ropes all over his body. It’d be interesting letting Techno so close to his skin with a knife though. 

And speaking of the piglin, Techno came up the ladder again, his footing unsteady as he carried a bucket and a washcloth with him. The water smelt clean, like he’d put in some of Phil’s lavender body wash in as well, but since they didn't have a tub or a convenient hot spring nearby, they took most of their baths in the sink downstairs. The water looked warm though, steaming out into the cool air of the room, and Techno came over to him. Phil still had his ass in the air, too tired to move.

“Can I,” Techno paused, as if gearing himself up to ask a massive favour of Phil, “Can I bathe you?”

Phil giggled again, smushing his face into the dry area of the bed.

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you're not going to, I don't know, kick me or anything about this tomorrow?”

“Mm-mmm.”

Techno sighed, but it seemed light hearted in response to Phil’s dream-like state. He felt giddy, like he was on a cloud in the highest, clearest sky, and he wanted Techno to be there too. He wanted Techno to hold him and keep him safe. 

Techno started with the buttons on Phil’s shirt, undressing him properly by going for the large one between his wings first, before he man-handled Phil onto his stomach, legs out flat behind him, on the dry spot further up the bed. Techno had put his dick away now, although for some reason the calves on his trousers were damp, and Phil blinked as he looked up and down the piglin’s body. However, just a moment after Techno had taken off Phil’s shirt, his hooves paused on his body and didn't move any further. He blinked, lazily and half awake, as Techno didn't put his hooves back on his sweat-cooled skin.

“Phil,” Techno said, voice a little shaky, “You really know how to surprise a guy.”

“Mmm.”

His face was still pressed into the bed, and his voice and thoughts were unrecognisable among the great sea of thoughtlessness. Techno’s hooves eventually returned to his trousers, continuing to undress him with precise, careful movements to not damage his clothes, but Phil just lay there and got on with it. Even if Techno were the kind of guy to take his fill without asking, Phil wouldn't have stopped him. He trusted Techno completely, even when he left him temporarily with a press of his snout to Phil’s temple as he went to get a knife from the kitchen downstairs. 

When he returned, Techno whispered a small apology and went to the rope with the blade, the dull side brushing against his pale, red-stained skin as he cut through the stands and fibres. He started at Phil’s ribs, trying to get to the thinner strands first, before he went lower and cut the one that went through his crotch. When Techno pulled that one out of his moistened folds, Phil moaned heavily and clenched his thighs together, but Techno had already seen the plug. He hadn't been trying to hide it, not intentionally, but the motion of the ropes leaving him had made him arch upwards and he knew the little pink jewel in the plug was probably visible, and based on the long pause Techno gave him, he was right.

“Fuck, Phil,” Techno said, whispered, “You’re going to get me killed.”

Phil didn't say anything, but Techno continued to dedicate himself to the task at hand, unweaving the ropes from across his body and soothing the rubbed-raw areas with kisses from his snout and with his hooves, until eventually he laid bare. Then, Techno grabbed the washcloth from the bucket of water and wrung it out, before bringing it to the sweat-tacky feathers between his wings and brushing it through gently. Phil just lay there and let him continue his task, feeling the lavender smell eventually go across his upper back and shoulders, then his lower back and ass cheeks. He giggled when Techno pushed his ass cheek to one side and pulled at the plug, and as he had suspected in the heat of the moment, it was loose and came out easily. Techno dropped it in the bucket of water without thinking, before running the washcloth down Phil’s left leg, then his right, and swiping gently at the pads of his feet. 

Techno then did his arms, lifting them gently and pressing his snout to the palm of Phil’s hand, then did the other, before he gently pulled Phil so that he was resting on his back instead. He started on the red marks below Phil’s breast-bone, ignoring the way the flesh there moved, and he traced the faded scars there, too. He rubbed the cloth over his shoulders, the raspy feeling making him toss his head slightly, before Techno did the same to his stomach and upper thighs. Techno then rinsed the cloth again, and before Phil could think of it, Techno had taken Phil’s head in one hoof and dabbed the cloth over his mouth and nose, rubbing the residual snot, cum and saliva there. Phil winced when he realised how awful he must have looked, but even with him moving to say something about it, Techno pressed his snout to Phil’s cheek, then his forehead, and then to the side of his neck. The washcloth brushed between his thighs, not quite touching his cunt but cleaning the stickiness remaining on the skin. He rinsed it again.

Finally, with a single motion which was both quick and efficient, Techno ran the wash cloth between Phil’s thighs and collected the remaining slick there, before he dropped the cloth back into the bucket and pressed his snout to Phil’s forehead again.

“Okay,” he said, putting his arms beneath Phil’s tired body and pulling him up, “as much as I love you being in my bed, I think we should move to yours for the night.”

“Mm-hmm,” Phil buried his head in Techno’s bare chest and let the taller man-handle him into bed. 

Techno pulled the sheets aside and set Phil into them, but before Phil could grab the piglin and pull him in again, he was already returning to the bucket across the room. Almost as if Phil had whimpered, Techno spoke up again.

“I’m just going to empty this,” Techno said, “and put out a trap or something on the doorstep. I don't want any mask-wearing freaks turning up unannounced.”

Phil snorted and Techno made his way back downstairs. He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed before a certain piglin was sliding into his bed as well, his chest smelling like a fire which had been extinguished with lavender scented water. Phil curled a hand around his chest immediately, burning his face in Techno’s neck.

“Thanks,” Phil mumbled, and even though he didn't feel like they were exactly words, Techno still responded.

“No,” he said quietly, “thank _you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> 👀👀👀👀  
> this was a pain in the ass to write (pun intentional)  
> This was gonna be a Phil solo fic, but including techno just worked so well, so now it's twice as long as I intended. Also there's accidental subspace, so whoops? Let me know what you think!  
> Also I didn't proof read this lmaoooo
> 
> comments are cool! hate will be deleted. Dont share with CCs.


End file.
